


The Festive Face-Off

by marshmallowtasha



Category: Veronica Mars (Movie 2014), Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: Veronica Mars Holiday Gift Exchange 2014
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-02 23:33:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2830073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marshmallowtasha/pseuds/marshmallowtasha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Veronica Mars Holiday Gift Exchange 2014 with the prompt:  Why Thanksgiving is better than Christmas</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Festive Face-Off

**Author's Note:**

  * For [oakave (kanga)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=oakave+%28kanga%29).



Mac spreads the tablecloth over the extended dining room table, doing the math again in her head to make sure they have enough chairs. _Keith, Alicia, Wallace, Lisa, Veronica, Logan, Dick, me…_

“Who am I forgetting?” Mac calls out to Veronica, who, based on the sounds coming from the kitchen, is either mashing the potatoes extra vigorously or taking a sledgehammer to the counter. The swearing she’s hearing indicates that she’d rather not know how things are progressing in there, although she thinks she hears Veronica call out a name between the “sons of a bitches” and “fucking shits.” _Daryl, right._

“Babe, did you count the Dickmeister?” Dick answers her question instead, carrying an extra chair to the table.

“Nope. You and Logan are sitting at the kiddie table, remember?” Mac retorts dryly to her husband of only 3 weeks.

Dick smiles appreciatively at his wife’s dig, even though it’s at his expense. “As long as there’s beer in the sippy cups, I’m good with that.” He deposits the chair at the table with a thunk and bounds over to peck her on the cheek. “I love Thanksgiving!”

Mac moves the chair into position, rolling her eyes at his enthusiasm “Jeez, look at you! You’re just about bouncing out of your skin. It’s hard for me to get excited over a holiday that revolves around a meal whose main dish I can’t even eat. I mean, it’s not like it’s Christmas or anything." 

“It’s miles better than Christmas, you mean.”

“Uh, _dude_. Logan said you wiped out on a wave this morning, but I didn’t think you hit your head _that_ hard. Do we need to have you checked out?” Mac reaches up and begins checking Dick’s head for lumps.

Dick shakes his head to dislodge her hands and takes a step back, looking at Mac like she’s the one who’s out of her mind. “Did you eat one of my brownies by accident? I told you – not the ones on the top shelf in the fridge.”

“I am NOT high! There is _no_ way that Thanksgiving is a better holiday that Christmas,” Mac responds, indignant.

“There is _every_ way that Thanksgiving is a better holiday than Christmas,” Dick mimics in a high-pitched voice, feet spread apart, ready for battle. He holds up his left hand, middle finger in the air. “First, it’s always on a Thursday. It was an automatic day off from school, and they always threw in Friday too. Four-day weekend. Bam!” He exclaims a little too vigorously and nearly smashes the brand new crystal candle holders the Sinclairs gave them as a wedding gift. “Next-“ He lifts a second finger, making a peace sign. “Football.”

Mac holds up her hand in his face, cutting him off from continuing. “Wait, wait, wait! You don’t even _like_ football.”

“You’re right. I don’t give a fuck about the actual game. Cheerleaders, babe. It’s all about the cheerleaders. And the tail-gating. Booze and babes. Booze. And. Babes.”

Mac rolls her eyes and turns to start setting out the plates she had stacked on the buffet. “ _That’s_ why Thanksgiving is better than Christmas? Long weekends and cheerleaders? You aren’t a fucking teenager anymore, Dick. Veronica, you owe me ten bucks! Dick _has_ killed his brain cells with those brownies!”

Logan walks in to the dining room carrying wine glasses. “She actually took that bet?” he asks, incredulous. 

Mac shrugs, smiling, in response. “She argued that he didn’t have any to begin with. I figured that he had enough to choose me, so he couldn’t have been that bad off.”

Logan snorts and Dick smacks him upside the head. “Hey! You married me, babe. What does that say about you? And you!” He rounds on Logan. “I expect a little more support from my bros, dude!” Seeing Mac’s glare, he quickly changes the topic back to the original subject. 

“Chillax, there, Mackie. I’m not done yet.” He holds up his pinky finger, making the Shocker. He stares at his hand and hiccups a laugh, nudging Logan who responds with one of his own. They proceed with their obnoxious handshake ritual, leftover from their adolescence. When they’re done, Dick looks back at Mac and sees her standing there with a disgusted look on her face, shaking her head.

“God, please tell me you’re both sterile.”

“Babe! You’re breaking my heart here! You mean you don’t want to spawn the next generation of Little Dicks?”

“Not if you’re going to call it spawning. Especially not if you think you’re ever going to get to ‘shock’ me,“ she says, using finger quotes.

Mac’s face is a mask of displeasure at this point, so Dick tries yet again to get the conversation back on track.

“OK, three.” He lifts his three middle fingers up, firmly holding down the offending pinkie with his thumb, and pointedly shows her his hand, a contrite expression on his face. 

“No family.” Seeing Mac start to get all riled up again, he quickly explains. “Wait! I don’t mean, like, now. I mean when I was a kid. My dad was usually away on his quarterly trip to China and Mom would forget cuz they don’t do Thanksgiving in Dusseldong or wherever the fuck she was living.”

“That’s depressing.” Mac says, her eyes full of tenderness, ignoring his blatant lack of geography.

“No, man! It was awesome! Extra long surf weekend in TJ, and Beav- I mean, Cass and I didn’t even have to make up some lame ass excuse to get out of some stupid dinner party.”

“But, Dick, think about the presents! Christmas is the magical time when you get all that stuff you’ve been staring at in the stores all year!”

“Fuck that!” Dick shrugged and looked at her confused. “I just bought whatever I wanted when I wanted it.”

“Spoken like a man who has endless amounts of money.”

“I _do_ have endless amounts of money, babe. And now you do too. You want the Louboutins? Buy ‘em. You want the twenty google ton floppy hard board upgrade thingy? Get it. Nothin’ stopping you. Don’t need a bow and a bedazzled tree for that.” He sidles up to her and puts his arms around her. “The only flashy wood around here should be mine anyway,” he purrs into her ear, his voice gravely like he knows turns her on. “And if you want to _Va_ jazzle your - ”

“Dick!” Mac cuts him off, embarrassed that Logan might have heard him. Dick is sure she sounds a little breathless, though, and chuckles under his breath, moving even closer to her so she can feel his “flashy wood.”

Logan clears his throat, alerting the two that he’s still in the room. “Down children. The others just rang the doorbell, and I don’t really want to eat on a defiled dining room table.” He walks towards the front door just as the bell rings a second time, and Veronica’s swearing takes on new notes of panic in the kitchen. He adds over his shoulder, “Leave it for after supper. And if you ruin Veronica’s meal, I won’t be able to save you.”

Looking into each other’s eyes, they grin at each other stupidly. Mac leans up and kisses Dick hard and fast, then steps away and winks at him over her shoulder. “We are not finished yet, mister.” She turns back to greet the crowd entering the house. Frustrated, Dick exhales forcefully, taking a second to readjust his pants before leaving the dining room so he doesn’t embarrass himself. 

For the rest of the afternoon, Dick relishes in his Thanksgiving rituals. Football plays on the eighty inch TV, and when the camera focuses on the cheerleaders, the men hoot and holler when all the women, laughing so hard that they can barely stay on their feet, attempt to follow along with the girls on the screen. The beer flows like a river to the point that Alicia sets her drink aside when it becomes clear that Keith is no longer in any shape to drive.   Despite all of Veronica’s stress and swearing, dinner goes off without a hitch, at least until Dick launches the first dinner roll at Daryl who is sitting clear across the table.

Logan and Dick walk into the living room after finishing the kitchen clean up to find everyone else scattered around on the couches, barely conscious. Dick sits down next to Mac and pulls her feet onto his lap. He may have loved the fact that there were no family dinners when he was a kid, but as he looks around at everyone slumbering in his living room, he can’t help think that his Thanksgivings now were infinitely better. “See? Best holiday ever.”

Mac just barely opens one eye to look at him sleepily. “You just wait until Christmas, hon. You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to bryrosea for her wonderful skillz as beta. The ending was expanded so Dick could have his food fight with Darryl, at her request. Thank you to StarlightAfterAStorm for organizing this wondrous holiday event. I'm pretty sure these will be better gifts than I will find under my tree.
> 
> Mostly, thank you to Oakave, who provided that prompt in the first place and allowed me my first taste of writing some MaDi.


End file.
